


The Sincerest Form of Flattery

by Crysania



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3797176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My one contribution to the Rumbelle Showdown this year. Prompts were: Happy, Oasis, Belle is Dark One.  I had to find a way around the "Belle is Dark One" thing because that's just not my thing, so...this happened. And I got knocked out in the first round!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sincerest Form of Flattery

She stands alone, out there in the middle of the desert. Despite the heat, she wears a heavy cloak with the cowl pulled down over her head. It hides her while still allowing her to see anyone approaching. They will come. She knows they will. It's been foretold. Or at least…told to _her_.

And so she waits, patiently standing at the edge of the little bubble created in the midst of this wasteland, a couple trees casting their shadows, a fountain bubbling behind her. It will draw them in as it draws in all who cross this desert. And when they enter it, they will be trapped until the deal is made. It's the way it works, the way the world keeps turning and rights itself as the magic is fed.

It's some time later when she sees the movement out on the dunes. Two men dragging themselves across the desert floor, hands gripping the leads for their camels. They won't even ride them anymore for fear the beasts will collapse. It is a harsh place, made all the harsher for where they must end up. She has asked much of these men, has asked them to go through hell to find her here in the middle of the most dangerous desert in their land.

But they were desperate. And one thing she has learned over the past year, the truly desperate will do anything. She knows. She knows all too well. She too has been there and done things only the most desperate do. Rumplestiltskin taught her that much at least. The desperate will go to great lengths to achieve what they believe they need. And you can bend them to your will easier than others. It's why he deals only with them. And it's why she is here right now.

The men finally reach her little bubble of safety and pause, staring at it. She waves one hand, claws beckoning them in. For a moment they watch that hand, their eyes wide, and finally cannot stop themselves. They enter her oasis with a small popping noise, breaching the barrier and immediately falling on the fountain in thanks.

It is real, this oasis.

It is not what they usually find…more sand, more heat, more _nothing_. Here it is real…or at least as real as magic can make it.

When they have drunk their fill, they turn to her.

"Dark One," the taller of the two men says, his face streaked with dirt and rivulets of water from dunking his head in her fountain.

"Yes," she says and the man steps back slightly. It is not a voice he expects. She pulls back the cowl of her cloak and the two men gasp before her.

"You're not…"

"I _am_ ," she hisses at them. She knows they want to question, want to ask what happened to Rumplestiltskin and so she cuts them off, offers up her explanation. "I have taken his place." It is not a lie, not exactly.

She steps between the men, one hand making a sweeping motion and is pleased to see them forced out of her way by the magic. She wasn't sure it would work, but it's seamless and as they feels themselves move, she sees their eyes widen in fright.

They believe and that is all that matters.

"You have it?" she finally asks, turning back to face them.

"We do," the other man responds with and retrieves a small pouch from inside the bag attached to one of the camels. He contemplates tossing it to her. She can see that, but the other man stops him.

"Your part of the deal?"

Of course, this was what they were here for, after all. She waves her hand and feels the magic flow around her. It’s a heady feeling, even if it doesn’t originate exactly with her. “It is done.”

The man narrows his eyes on her. “How do I know you really did it?”

“You doubt me?” Her voice is harsh, slightly nasal. She throws in a slight titter as reminiscent of Rumplestiltskin’s as she can.

The man backs up a space. “Never, Dark One.”

“Never you mind that,” she says and points at him. “Allow me to show you some proof." She knows when she waves her hand the object will be there. She grips it hard as it appears, almost drops it. She can't show any weakness or they may realize the truth of the situation they find themselves in.

It’s a dangerous game she’s playing.

So she moves closer to them, cocks her head to the side, offers a little smile and a crook of her finger. They’re too afraid _not_ to move toward her and so do. She waves another hand over the mirror and watches, almost as entranced as they are, as the surface ripples. When it clears she’s looking at a field, green and fertile. There’s a farmer and a team of oxen plowing along the far side. She can just barely see them there at the edge of the mirror.

The man breathes a sigh of relief. “You did it.”

“Of course I did,” she snaps at the man. The mirror disappears from her hand and she tries not to look awkward as it does so. She turns and glares at the bushes behind her for just a moment before facing the men again. “Now _go_.”

The men skitter away. The taller of the two bows once before grabbing his camel and rushing out of the oasis. Back in the desert, they look exhausted but there’s a spring in their step that wasn’t there before and Belle cannot help but smile.

“The crops will drown in the spring,” comes the voice from behind her.

She turns to face Rumplestiltskin as he emerges from behind the bushes. “That’s awful.”

He shrugs. “That’s _life_ ,” he answers with and there’s a certain look in his eyes that says he understands that all too well. She doesn’t know his origins. She’s tried to find them out in sometimes sneaky ways. But all he’s managed to choke out, once when she plied him with enough alcohol that his brain seemed to half shut down, was that he was once a man and is no longer.

She doubts that. If it looks like a man and walks like a man, it’s probably a man. Even if he calls himself a monster and shies away from any attempt at affection.

She’s watching as the men disappear into the distance and doesn’t hear him come up behind her until he’s right there, his breath tickling the hair at the nape of her neck. “They’ll make it through.” His voice is quiet and solemn and she turns back to him with a smile on her face.

“Well, good.” She lets out a small laugh then and he cocks his head to the side.

“You’re happy.”

“I am,” she confirms.

“You…enjoyed this?” He’s careful about his words, ever careful.

“I wanted adventure, didn’t I?”

“And _this_ is your idea of an adventure?” He waves one hand in the air.

She leans a little closer, just a hair, and watches as he steps back. He always does keep a distance between them. Physically _and_ emotionally. She sometimes wonders if she’ll ever break either of those barriers. He’s walled in pretty deep, more protected in some ways than even his castle. “Well, it’s certainly a good start.”

He makes a little noise in the back of his throat and she’s not sure if he’s scoffing at her or if it was one of agreement. She thinks it might be a bit of both.

“Now if you’ll just change me back…”

“So quick to get out of the monster’s skin?” He points one long finger at her.

She shakes her head and reaches out to take his hand in hers and she finds it strange seeing them together there, both with their scaly greenish skin and long black nails. There’s a symmetry there that she finds oddly compelling. But then she offers him a smile and the truth. “Ready to get back into _my_ skin.”

He watches her for a moment longer and then makes a small gesture. The scales recede from her skin, her nails go back to their usual chewed off edges. “And now home?”

He nods and steps closer to her. “You _were_ rather convincing,” he says, wrapping an arm around his waist as he does so.

“I was, wasn’t I?” She smirks and pulls closer to him, readying herself for the dizziness that always accompanies this particular mode of transport.

He pauses. “But what _was_ with that ridiculous laugh?”

She turns and meets his eyes, hers wide. “I was imitating _you_.”

His nose crinkles up a bit. “I do _not_ sound like that.”

As Belle lets out a laugh, they are engulfed in the purple smoke of his magic and she wraps her arms around him as she feels the familiar pull to their home.


End file.
